


Bound

by Adarian



Category: Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-05
Updated: 2014-11-05
Packaged: 2018-02-24 06:05:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2570870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adarian/pseuds/Adarian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Seeking vengeance for the slavery of the Denerim elves, Tabris finds herself in Kirkwall and in need of skilled help to track down a noble man in the city. As Hawke and co. assist her with her task, Fenris finds himself growing close with the Warden as he too seeks closure. Kink-meme request.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Fenris was anxious that morning, waiting with the others at their usual table at the Hanged Man. Varric was spinning another tale, but he could not focus on it. Hawke’s note had been vague at best, asking them to meet her there, no description of the task at hand, only that it was important.

Fenris thought even that word had lost it’s meaning in the past few weeks. This city was growing to be a dangerous place, even for the close friends of the Champion. These games they played…it meant life or death for those who lived in the city walls. War was coming, he could feel it burning in his skin. Was this the day? Was this the task that would tip the scale?

Isabela stole a gulp of his wine and he made a face at her. The pirate had been insufferably happy since she had returned, and Hawke not much better. Still, it was good to see his friends blissful. With everything they had been through these past few years, perhaps love had kept them going. It was strange to think of what he felt as love, but it was of a kind. Hawke had been the kindest friend he had ever had, surely the best mage he had ever known. And these people…there was a kinship, a sense of belonging. It was only a few weeks since Danarius had died at his hands, since his sister fled from his wrath. He noted to himself that it was one of the first days that the ache in his chest had begun to settle. He felt like he could breathe again.

He looked around, taking a sip of his wine. Whatever Hawke had to say, he prayed that this stirring of peace would not fade. 

He looked up, seeing his friend enter the bar with another by her side. Isabela seemed to recognize the figure, shrieking in glee as she bounded off to sweep the stranger off her feet. An unfamiliar laugh followed, the figure’s hood falling as Isabela kissed her joyfully.

Hawke grimaced, “I’m right here, Isabela.”

“Oh Hawke,” Isabela laughed, “No need to be jealous. She’s never been hesitant to share before.”

Fenris got a better look at the blushing woman under Isabela’s arm. She was an elf, light brown skin, deep brown eyes, and black hair braided down her back. Fenris looked away again, worried he was intruding into this reunion.

Hawke brought the woman over to the table, Varric moving over to accommodate them both.

“Gang,” Hawke greeted with open arms, “Continuing the pattern this week of assisting people Isabela has slept with-”

“Hey,” Isabela protested. 

“I am very pleased to introduce to you a fellow Ferelden. This is Aria Tabris.”

Anders bit his lip, “We’ve actually met before. This is…you’re not going to come take me back, are you?”

“I won’t tell them I’m here if you don’t,” Tabris said with a sad smile, “Though I did hear a rumour Nate was in the area. You might want to stay clear incase he has that nasty Straud with him. I could never stand that man.”

Anders’ face softened and Tabris continued, taking her cloak off as Edwina brought her a pint of ale, “I’m actually here to hire Hawke. She told me she had a team. People like us seem to always have teams. We also seem to have some overlap in that department, which I suppose should not have surprised me. I don’t believe in withholding details from my men, so I want to make this offer explicit. I have been tracking down elves sold during the Blight in Ferelden, as well as tracking down those hired as slavers during this period. My…excursions have led me to Kirkwall. I have information regarding a slaver in town. I would go to the guard, but any formal inquiry will only tip the man off. I need him alive…for now. I need Hawke to get me close to the man, but I need a team to keep us safe. Money is not an object. Let’s just say I’ve done well for myself as of late. It’s dangerous work and may involve a fair bit of killing slavers. From what Hawke tells me, you seem to be a good lot to get that done. Is that fair?”

“I’m sorry,” Merrill interrupted, “You’re a Grey Warden, aren’t you? What is a Warden doing tracking down criminals? You are supposed to stay out of politics, that’s what they said when the Qunari invaded.”

“I have…taken a leave of absence you could say,” Tabris replied, “I was Warden-Commander of Ferelden. There was some…difference of opinion when I received evidence of the crimes committed seven years ago. It is time to right an old wrong.”

She glanced at Fenris, who had felt himself nodding with what she had said. There were crimes that could not be forgotten, not be discarded so easily. 

“I’m in,” Hawke said, looking around, “Is there anyone who doesn’t feel comfortable with this?”

There was little dispute as all signed on to the task. Hawke said, “Varric and I have already discussed a contact he has in Darktown. We’ll go after dark and figure out who our target is. We know it’s a noble man in this city, but we don’t know which one. Tabris and I have it narrowed down, but we need to be sure. If we strike out, we could lose this guy.”

“There’s that gala you didn’t want to go to tomorrow night,” Isabela pointed out, “If we go, maybe we can catch the bastard there. I do love fighting in formal wear.”

Hawke and Isabela exchanged a look and Isabela frowned, “Fine, continue to be embarrassed by me. I don’t give a shit.”

“Bela,” Hawke stated and Tabris cut in, “We need to be discreet, that’s all. The smaller an incursion we can make, the safer this will be. We’ll plan from whatever we learn tonight. I suggest, Hawke, you pick your team and we ready for tonight. I am going to go to my room to rest. It has been a long journey.”

Tabris excused herself as Hawke took a scan of the room, “Anders, stay by your clinic tonight in case we need you. We’ll meet you there and get back to the estate through the cellar. Varric, you’re with us. Merrill, I want you to go home and talk around the Alienage. See what you can hear. Isabela, with us. Fenris…I’d ask you to come, but if its too close to home…”

Fenris shook his head, “I want to help.”

“Okay. Aveline, head back to the barracks. You’ve been under enough scrutiny lately as it is, I don’t want you to get in trouble. Is everyone good?”

The group nodded, talking amongst themselves as they drank and readied for the evening. Fenris found himself distracted and excused himself, wandering into the back of the tavern. He heard that same laugh again and found himself at the entrance of one of the rooms, seeing Tabris sit on the edge of the bed. Isabela was flopped down beside her and Anders was sitting on the floor, a rare smile across his face.

“Fenris!” Isabela called out, “Come join us. You’ll love this guy, Tabris. He’s like that Qunari you used to travel with. Stein? Ken? The serious one. Just as lovely a voice and just as little fun.”

“Sten was all sorts of fun,” Tabris laughed, “I miss him. Come on in, I could use another wise and stern man in my life.”

Fenris felt a slight flush go through his face as he came into the room. He sat down on the floor across from Anders, the mage smirking at his discomfort. Their relationship had grown easier in the years, though as of late, the teasing had begun to irk him slightly. The man seemed in no position to judge Fenris’ lack of…social life, but he seemed to do so all the same. 

“So,” Tabris continued, drinking her wine, “You and Hawke. I love that. She’s so gorgeous. I can’t believe even you pulled that one off.”

“Hey,” Isabela protested, “I am still a hot little number, alright? Just ignore my skin deciding it’s getting old before the rest of me.”

“You’re beautiful,” Tabris smiled, “I think the laugh lines suit you. And Anders…you haven’t…”

“There hasn’t been anyone since Karl,” Anders admitted, “It’s been…well…Justice keeps me busy enough as it is.”

Isabela made a jerking off motion, causing Anders to roll his eyes. Isabela rolled onto her back, looking up at Tabris, “Now you, my dear. I have heard all sorts of rumours about your love life. I ran into Zevran recently, you know.”

“By ran into you mean, he ran into you?” Tabris smirked.

Isabela gave her a loving shove, “Haha. But yes. That man has only improved over the years, you know? Did I ever tell you he was the second man I ever slept with? Oh, but that’s another story. He said that you two had a little fling back in the old days. I thought you were with that blonde Warden. He was all over you. I liked him. He had…strong hands.”

Anders widened his eyes, “You weren’t sleeping with the King, were you?”

Isabela grinned, “I slept with a King? I have to add that to my list of things to brag about.”

Tabris paused slightly, “Alistair and I…were together. For about half a year. He left me before his coronation. I rebounded with Zevran, which was fun, but it just fizzled out. You know how it is.”

“Why did he leave you?” Fenris asked, the group turning to acknowledge him.

Tabris’ face softened, “He was going to marry another woman. He would have taken me as a mistress, but I did what he considered unforgivable. And I…I deserved better. So it ended. That’s all.”

Fenris wanted to ask more, but Hawke came into the room, holding a small locket in her hand. 

“Isabela,” Hawke said, “I’ve got something for you. Let’s go to your room and…have a look at it.”

Isabela smirked, rising off the bed, “You can’t always bribe me with something shiny you know.”

“I’ll keep doing it until it stops working,” Hawke promised, kissing her lightly.

The two walked off together, Hawke’s hand resting on Isabela’s hip. Anders coughed slightly and said, “I should get back to my clinic. It was good seeing you again, Comman-Aria. I’ll see you later tonight. I’d tell you to keep safe, but I think you can handle yourself.”

Anders stood to leave and Fenris followed suite. Tabris called out to him, “You can stay, you know. I don’t bite.”

Fenris turned, looking back at the woman sitting down on the bed, “I…I need some air.”

Fenris closed the door behind him and found himself leaning against it haphazardly. He felt like a foolish boy. Sex had never been something he was comfortable discussing, even with Hawke over many bottles of wine. If there had been someone before his enslavement, he had no memory. And after…there were so few women he trusted, and all of them now were committed to another. Yet seeing this woman, this woman who was so free with herself, yet…there was something else there, a glint in her eyes that resonated with him, that grasped out at him.

For the first time in many years, he found himself attracted to someone. He wanted to dismiss it, as a sign that he was slowly healing. But there was something…something there he could not name. He shook off the feeling the best he could and went back to Varric’s room to rest.

*  
It was near midnight when they finally left the Tavern, the five of them acting casually as Hawke led them through the underground passages leading to Darktown. Tabris waited near the rear of their group, her eyes darting around as she investigated her surroundings closer.

“My contact should be just through that tunnel to the left,” Varric said, “Broody, take Isabela and keep an eye out on the place. Warden, stay close to us. Just in case.”

Fenris and Isabela did as instructed, hanging back as they mingled among the refugees. Fenris kept his eyes upon the group, watching Hawke address the mercenary with a slightly off joke. After hearing the familiar groan that followed Hawke’s humour, Fenris relaxed, seeing that the meeting was going well.

Fenris looked up, seeing Isabela talk with a pair of mothers just off to the side. He heard the whistle and ran to Hawke’s side, blade drawn into his hands. He sliced down the first man who came close to her, the power in his veins beating fiercely as he stood beside her. The comforting aura surrounded him, helping him focus on the task at hand. 

He struck another down, looking up to see the Warden cut through a dwarf’s throat. She seemed unbothered by the scene, patiently going through the garments of the corpse. She looked up as a spell came towards her, rolling out of the way, stashing a document into her pocket.

“Well, that could have gone better,” Tabris announced, standing with her back facing Hawke, protecting her left side. 

Varric cursed, “Hey, it’s not my fault news of your arrival spread. You kill a few slavers, apparently that makes folks unhappy.”

Hawke struck down the last man with a bolt of lightening, the electricity rippling through the air around them. 

“Come on,” Hawke said, nodding towards Tabris, “You’re not staying at the Hanged Man. My home is more secure, you’ll stay there tonight.”

The Warden’s face softened, “I don’t mean to put you in danger.”

Hawke laughed, “Trust me. You’re not going to make a big dent in that department. Come on, we’ll go through the Clinic.”

As they strode towards the passage, Fenris blurted out, “I should stay with you, Hawke. It is better to sleep in shifts. In case.”

Isabela smirked, “Aw, my poor sweet thing doesn’t want to sleep all alone? You know where you could always find me.”

Fenris felt a flush go through his cheeks, causing him great embarrassment, “It is simply better to be prepared than not. News will spread, Hawke.”

“Thank you,” Hawke replied, “I’ll get Bodhahn to set up the spare room for you.”

Tabris laughed, “Wait, Bodhahn Feddic? Oh what a delight. Is Sandal with him? I haven’t seen him in years.”

“He’s actually working for me right now,” Hawke smiled, “Both him and Sandal. You’ll have to catch up with them at the Estate.”

“I look forward to it,” Tabris smiled softly, “I’ve always been fond of those two.”

*

Hawke, now dressed in her housecoat, came down into the study, flopping into an armchair beside Fenris. She looked up, watching Tabris speaking with Sandal, both grinning as Tabris told a joke. Hawke’s mabari came up to them, snuggling against Tabris’ arm until she patted him.

“Come now, Warden,” Hawke called out, pulling out a bottle of wine, “Share what you found on the bastard earlier.”

“I should guard the entrance,” Fenris said, standing, “If you are both here. Or perhaps you would want me to rest now.”

Hawke smirked, “Come on now, my dear broody elf. You do not have to be so formal. I am not worried about any man breaking down that door. Have a drink, relax. You may be able to provide some insight.”

Tabris came into the study, closing the door behind her after waving to the others in the grand hall. She had unbraided her hair, her dark locks curling around her face and trailing down her back. Unarmed and unarmoured, she did not seem any less fearsome, but there was a softness to her face now he had not seen before. 

Fenris looked away as Tabris brought forth her documents, “I never understand why people keep such important things on their bodies. This suggests a Lord in town starting with “L” is expecting payment for a shipment. The exchange was meant to be tomorrow, which will be unfortunate when it does not occur. When Varric’s…associate does not turn up, he will suspect that I am here. I must move quickly and dispatch him. I need evidence. I am in the right of Kirkwall law, but I need to be sure.”

Hawke frowned, “There is man named Lord Lerius. He’s from an old house, stuffy old thing. He has two sons as well, both in their thirties or so. It could be any of them. It could be someone else entirely. But for your convenience, he is the man hosting the gala tomorrow night. That must be where the exchange is happening, it’s so public, no one would suspect it.”

“Then you must go, Hawke,” Tabris said, “I noticed you have another elven servant. Have her and I go as handmaidens, it’s very common in Orlais. I will try to find evidence and you will provide a distraction.”

“I guess Isabela is getting what she wants,” Hawke grumbled, “Fine, I’ll go to the fancy party. But there better be a battle or something fun. Fenris, you want to come? It might be nice having someone hiding in the shadows with a sword, always makes me feel safer if I have to wear fancy clothing.”

Fenris nodded, “I will discuss the plans with the Warden. Go rest, Hawke. You will have a busy enough day tomorrow.”

Hawke cursed as she left the room, grumbling about the latest fashion trend. Tabris and Fenris exchanged a glance, Tabris biting her lip to stop from smiling.

“Would you…like some company?” Fenris asked, surprising himself.

“I would love that,” Tabris said, grabbing Hawke’s abandoned bottle of wine, “Do you want to share?”

After a few hours of drinking and exchanging stories, both of them had ended up sitting in front of the fire, sharing the bottle between them. Tabris rested her head on his shoulder and Fenris flinched at first and then relaxed to her touch. 

“It is getting late,” she said sleepily, “We should both get some rest.”

“Tell me something, Warden,” Fenris said gently, gazing out into the fire, “You weren’t honest before when you said why he left you.”

“Of all the ridiculous things I have told you tonight,” Tabris laughed, “That’s the thing you don’t believe?”

Fenris smirked, “Trust me, I have seen some ridiculous things in my life, as you know well know. It was the only thing you have said that did not ring true.”

Tabris nodded, raising her head from him, “I guess that’s fair. You have been honest with me…even about things you did not want to speak of. You trusted in me. I want…I want to be honest with you.”

“I didn’t kill a man,” Tabris sighed, looking into the fire, “I stayed my blade. I gave a murderer, my enemy, a chance at life again when he would not have done the same. Alistair wanted revenge.”

“And you did not?”

“I wanted a chance at peace,” she replied, “And when I did so…I realized something I never would have otherwise. My enemy was a man. He was skin and bones like me. He had hopes and dreams. He had witnessed terrible things and he had done terrible things to do what he thought was right. I realized we were the same.”

Fenris frowned and she replied, “Whatever monster you are carrying in your heart is long dead. Let it die, Fenris. Don’t let him enslave you any longer.”

“It’s not the same,” Fenris protested.

“You’re right, it’s not,” she agreed, “I know one man that if I had the power to, I would have killed him a thousand times over again. But he does not own my soul any more. He doesn’t get that power over me.”

“I thought once he was dead, I would be free of him,” Fenris admitted.

“It doesn’t work like that,” Tabris said softly. 

“How does it work?” Fenris asked, his voice softening.

“One day you realize that your anger is killing you,” Tabris admitted, bringing her knees to her chest, “You realize you can’t breathe, that it is slowly choking the life out of you. It isn’t a profound feeling of forgiveness that overcomes you, it’s the feeling that you want to live.”

Fenris turned to face her, her dark brown eyes full of pity. He wanted to hate her in that moment, to cast her from his sight and curse her words. Perhaps it was the alcohol, but he felt those words sink into his skin. 

She rose, “I’m sorry. I did not want to step over my bounds. I’ve drunk too much clearly. I don’t know what you’ve been through, I have no right to say anything.”

As she turned to go to the door, Fenris called out, “What happened to him? The man you thought was worth saving?”

Tabris paused, a sad smiling coming across her face as she rested her hand on the doorframe. 

“That,” she said finally, “I need to be much drunker to discuss. Good night, Fenris.”

Fenris stood, their eyes meeting each other in an uneasy truce.

“Good night,” he said, bowing his head.

*  
Fenris woke the next morning on the floor of the library, the mabari curled up underneath his arm. He patted the dog as he rose, a hand to his temple. It seemed far too early for such commotion already in the Estate. He walked out into the hall, seeing Aveline standing, arms crossed, speaking with Hawke. Neither noticed them as the conversation continued.

“On the double, Hawke,” Aveline commanded, the other woman frowning as she made her way back up the stairs.

“What’s going on?” Fenris asked, sleepily rubbing his forehead.

“Our delightfully responsible friend here managed to get herself summoned to the Viscount’s Keep. Not only has she been successful at pissing off leaders in power she knows, she has now pissed off a complete stranger. You better get dressed too, Fenris. She’ll probably want you to go with her.”

Fenris groaned, making his way into the dining room. He paused, seeing Tabris sitting with Sandal, talking over their breakfasts. She looked up, an uneasy smile crossing her face.

“Any idea what all this is about?” Fenris asked, gesturing to the hall.

“Sadly, yes,” Tabris said, “Want to come meet the King of Ferelden?”

*  
Fenris followed behind the other three as they made their way into the fortress. He kept his head low, a practice that he should have abandoned long ago. He was just as much a man as any other who crossed this threshold. 

Aveline and Hawke amicably bickered just ahead of them, the Guard Captain leading them into a closed off room near the back of Viscount’s Keep. Tabris stayed near him, almost silent as they reached the offended party.

Fenris did not recognize either man, but clearly Tabris did. The younger man, dressed in fine heavy armour, approached her angrily.

“Good you’re not dead. Now I can kill you myself,” he grumbled, “You said you would let this one go. You have no proof. You’re going to screw up everything I came here to accomplish. You promised you would stay out of the way.”

“I said I would let you do your job,” Tabris retorted.

“Hello?” Hawke asked, “Who are these people?”

“I’m Alistair. King Alistair of Ferelden. This is my uncle, Arl Teagan. I originally just wanted to speak to you, Serah, but it seems you managed to claim my associate here as a charge. Perfect, now I can reprimand both of you.”

Teagan said quietly, “Alistair, do not make a scene. It is not wise for you and she to be so publically brawling.”

Tabris stated, “It appears to be necessary. I’ve kept out of your way, Alistair. I have evidence and I will be discreet. Will you please stop interfering in my life?”

“You represent our kingdom, Warden,” Alistair reminded, “Your duty is to us. Not to be causing havoc over Thedas. We could be at war soon. We need to be on the same team. This goes for you too, Hawke. I’ve heard of you, even in our country. We need unity here. I hear you’re causing raucous as well. Perhaps I shouldn’t be surprised you two matched up. Keep your noses clean and stay out of Chantry business. What you do here has implications everywhere. You cannot possibly be this self-indulgent.”

Hawke stood, stunned, as he continued, “I came here to make an alliance with Knight-Commander Meredith. Having Ferelden apostates running around is not smoothing this process over. I can appreciate what both you ladies are trying to do, but it is in no one’s best interest. Do you understand?”

Hawke and Tabris exchanged a look, Hawke raising her eyebrow.

Hawke responded simply, “Go screw yourself. My girlfriend tells me you’re good at it.”

Aveline grumbled, “Hawke…”

“Fine,” Alistair said, throwing his hands up in the air, “I tried. Warden, I expect you back at the ship tomorrow morning. Your duty is to Ferelden. You would do best to remember that.”

“Or what, you’ll ship me to Orlais too?” She asked, a sneer forming at the corner of her mouth.

“You could only be so lucky,” he replied coldly, “Guard-Captain, please escort these fine citizens of yours out of the Keep. I would like a word with the Warden.”

Tabris shook her head, “We’re done here. Hawke, let’s go.”

As soon as they were outside of earshot, Hawke commented, “Maker, he does really hate you. Was he always such a prick?”

Tabris said softly, “No. He still is a good man. Just a very bitter one.”

Fenris glanced at her, watching her bite her lips. He wished he could say something, but let the conversation fall back between Aveline and Hawke, the two friends arguing affectionately.


	2. Chapter 2

The day passed quickly, the odd tension being felt throughout the Hawke estate. Varric had come over around noon and Fenris had spent a few pleasant hours losing money to him as they awaited the gala. 

During the third game, Fenris asked Varric, “Do you know what happened to Loghain Mac Tir?”

“The Traitor of Ferelden?” Varric asked with a smirk, laying out a few more coins, “I heard he became a Grey Warden, didn’t he? I’m better at making up stories than telling them truthfully, Broody. Our new friend upstairs would know better.”

Varric took a drink, watching Fenris’ face, “Which makes me think she wouldn’t tell you. What’s your interest?”

“I’m merely curious,” Fenris replied, “I do not know much about the Blight. I was in Tevinter for all of it.”

“The best I know,” Varric said, “Is very little for sure. I can tell you the rumours, but that’s probably not what you’re looking for. There’s not a lot of Wardens in Ferelden, not before the Blight, and certainly not after. Blondie said when he was in Amaranthine, there was eight of them in total. Not exactly encouraging, really. He only met Loghain once or twice, didn’t make much of an impression on him. I think it’s understandable that he was not particularly popular.”

Fenris laid out his cards, “I’m out.”

Varric smiled, “How about another round?”

*

As the afternoon light faded, Fenris cleaned his armour, knotting the symbol of Amell line on his arm. It was a small token, but it identified him when he walked among the nobles. The bodyguard. The fierce Tevinter warrior that could rip your heart straight from your chest and would readily spit on you as you bled dry.

Or so the whispers would go as he walked among them. He did not relish it, but he enjoyed being left alone. There was a perverse pleasure in knowing he was stronger than them, that they could not hurt him. As for Hawke’s mark upon him, there was a freedom in being claimed by one who he had willingly devoted himself too. It reminded him that there was always a home. 

He waited by the fire, the mabari whining for his attention. He knelt down to ruffle the fur behind his ear, looking up as he heard four sets of footsteps make their way down the staircase.

Hawke walked in hand with Isabela, both women dressed in red and gold gowns with Isabela’s being cut higher up her thigh. Hawke wore her hair back in her customary way, but Isabela had let her curls up in an elegant style, showing the slender nape of her neck. 

A few paces behind them, dressed in simple black dresses with veils over their eyes, two elven servants walked behind them. He recognized Orana immediately, the young woman smiling excitedly. He at first did not notice Tabris, her face sullen underneath her veil. But she turned to him, their eyes meeting with an odd intensity he could not name.

He met them as they reached the door, taking his place behind the two servants as they would make their way into the rainy evening. He hoped Tabris would turn to look at him again, but she kept her head forward. He bowed his own head and followed Hawke into the streets of Hightown.

*

Fenris watched from the shadows as the nobles interacted with Hawke, many inquiring after the beautiful woman she accompanied that evening. Hawke enjoyed shocking them, but she had toned it down slightly this evening, making Isabela feel comfortable as they made their way around the room. 

He looked around, seeing Orana and Tabris nearby, the former greeting a few other servants she knew. Tabris kept her eyes alert, watching the crowd as she moved through it, her head down in mock humility. 

As the dinner bell called out and the nobles moved to the dining room, Fenris followed Tabris as she made her way into the Estate, hiding among the other handmaidens. He stayed as far behind as he could, making it seem that he was still watching over Hawke. 

When Tabris slipped down the next corridor, Fenris followed, staying several paces behind her. She turned her head exactly once, and after noting it was him, kept her eyes back on the ground. Just loud enough for him to hear, she whispered, “Go back to Hawke. I’ll be okay.”

Fenris pulled back, watching her tread up the stairs before turning towards the dining hall. He felt that he should not leave her, but as others saw him again, he knew it would be wisest if he returned to Hawke.

*

The nobles of Kirkwall loved to dance. They loved watching others dance, waiting at the sides as they drank and gossiped. Mothers planned weddings for unsuspecting children, the obscenely wealthy discussed issues they had little knowledge of. It was a world that Hawke had been pushed into and Fenris suspected she only remained in it to protect herself and the others around her.

Fenris waited in the wings himself, watching Hawke dance with a man who had no clue about her lover dancing merely feet away. There was a smile exchanged between Hawke and Isabela, one of reassurance and love.

He noticed a few of the house guards leaving the room and deciding his friends were safe, followed discreetly back into the rest of the estate. His exit, however, did attract the attention of Hawke and Isabela, who came in behind him, trailing a few paces behind. At a corridor, Hawke motioned the two of them to lean against the wall with her.

Hawke whispered, “Fenris, stay with me. Let Isabela go, she’s better at stealth. Come back to the ballroom with me. Please.”

Fenris hesitated and nodded, watching Isabela blend into the nobles walking up and down the hallways. He took Hawke’s arm, escorting her back into the ballroom, lowering his eyes as royalty glanced over his body, appraising him. As they arrived back into the room, Hawke was whisked away by another young lord, leaving Fenris to wait anxiously by the wall again. 

It seemed only a moment later a blood-curdling scream shook through the room. The music stopped and guests panicked, the room becoming quickly chaotic. Fenris grabbed Hawke’s arm, his other hand resting on his blade. They ran outside to the balcony, the rain growing heavier as they looked for the source of the sound. Hawke saw the skirmish first, pointing to the guards running across the rooftop. 

“Follow me,” she said, “There’s a stairwell on this level.”

Fenris did as she asked, racing behind her as she gently pushed those ahead of her out of the way. She pushed through another set of doors, leading outside and to a curved iron stairwell. As the rain pooled around them, they ran up the stairs, Fenris holding his arm out in case he needed to catch her. They made it to the rooftop, seeing Isabela and Tabris back to back, slowly being forced into a corner. 

Hawke slammed her hand into the ground, causing the roof to shake. Fenris pulled out his blade, following behind the mage as she cast out a wave of fire, the spell causing hot steam to rise around them. In the chaos, Isabela rolled out, pulling another dagger out of her boot and throwing it to Tabris. Fenris made his way to his fellow elf, shielding her with his body as the guards tried to reach her. Tabris rolled, throwing her dagger into a guard’s heart. 

He lost sight of the other two, the steam rising around them as the cold rain rushed down. He felt Tabris back at his side before he saw her, the bloodied dagger back in her hand as she glanced up at him. Fenris stepped in front of her again; both of them close to the edge of the roof. 

His head snapped left as he heard Hawke cry out, hearing her thud to the ground. The distraction was enough to let one man grow close enough to slash through Fenris’ leggings, causing him to fall to his knees, blood trickling down his thigh. The steam started to clear as an unarmed man walked out into the crowd, signaling the others to circle around them.

Isabela tried to run to Hawke’s side, but an arrow in her shoulder caused her to fall to the ground, inches away from her. Fenris wanted to move to her side, but the blood streamed further down his leg, his head feeling faint. Tabris stood in front of him, refusing to move. 

The man stepped forth, his hand wrapped around Hawke’s throat. She looked up, her face ashen, attempting to struggle out of his grasp.

“Lay down your weapons,” he ordered.

Tabris was the first to throw down her blade. Fenris followed without question. 

“I want the Champion alive,” the man ordered, looking at the guards, “Do you understand? Take them to the shipping yards. If they resist, kill them.”

Tabris looked at Fenris, smiling sadly in that instant before they were torn from each other. She touched his hand, her fingers brushing against his. He looked back at her, wanting to speak before they took her from him. Before unconsciousness hit him, he remembered the feeling of her hand pulled from his, of her fierce gaze when she refused to look away from him.

*  
Fenris opened his eyes again, weakly pulling himself off of the floor. He looked over, seeing Hawke and Isabela asleep against the wall, the pirate lying in her mage’s arms. He blinked, noting the barred door and the cold, damp ground. As he tried to stand, a pair of hands came forth to steady him. 

Tabris came into his blurred vision, helping him sit, leaning against the wall. He smiled weakly as her hands rested on his arms still. 

“You really should wear greaves, you know,” she smiled vulnerably.

“So they tell me,” Fenris replied gently, “Are you alright?” 

She nodded, “Hawke got you in time, thank the Maker. We’ve been down here for hours now. I’m glad you’re finally up. I was…worried. You should rest though. You lost a lot of blood.”

Fenris nodded, his leg throbbing painfully underneath his shredded pants. 

“Did you find what you were looking for?” He asked.

“Yeah,” she smirked, “Former Templar selling slaves back and forth. I should have wondered what Alistair meant when he meant Chantry business. Poor Hawke. I’ve never seen a mage get the wind knocked out of them that bad before. I had the documents on me. I tripped an alarm, it was stupid of me. I tried to get out…it happened so quickly…I guess I’m not as fast as I used to be.”

“You’re hardly an old woman,” Fenris commented.

Tabris said gently, “Regardless. I was careless. I was…prideful. I should have let you come with me. I wanted to keep you out of harm’s way…seems that did not go so well.”

“Why?” Fenris asked.

“I’ve lost too many,” she said quietly, “Too many men and women have died under my watch. You make choices, hoping you’re doing the right thing…but it doesn’t matter. You lose them. People die…and it’s never you.”

She smiled sadly, “I’m sorry. Perhaps I really had no right to judge you that night. My head isn’t exactly on straight either. I don’t have a death wish. But…it seems unfair. I didn’t want another good man to die on my behalf.”

Fenris asked quietly, “What happened to Loghain?”

“Nothing nearly so honourable,” she admitted, “He was transferred to Orlais. You may not believe this, nor understand…but we were friends. I loved him as I did my other Warden brothers and sisters. But…I thought at times there was more. I feel disgusting just saying that. When he left…we fought. He thought I had sent him away, he wished I had never spared him. And when he left…I could not stop thinking, I could not stop thinking that I was even more vile than he. That I was a hypocrite. Maybe I had done more harm than good in this world.”

Fenris gingerly touched her hand. She stroked his fingers with hers, the sensation oddly soothing to his wounded skin. Perhaps what she said should have sickened him, but in his mind, he saw the vulnerable woman before him who thought she was evil for seeing a soul in a beast. For believing in mercy, in justice. Instead of feeling angry, he felt a need to confess to her, this strange desire for her to see him as worthy. He needed to hear her say that she saw the same beauty in him, that he was more than the casted off weapon of Danarius. That he was…

He did not have time to finish the thought before the door was opened and men forcibly brought them out into the docks. Fenris grimaced as he was thrown down on his bad leg, the wound reopening slightly. He looked up, seeing the three woman cast nearby, Hawke ashen as their captor stepped forth.

“Lerius the Younger. Lady Elegant mentioned you had terrible hosting skills,” Hawke coughed as she smirked, “But I feel like she should have mentioned the tendency to kidnap and assault people.”

“Only apostates,” he replied, “I have a special soft spot for those. I don’t appreciate you interrupting my business, Champion. It seems given your…unique talents, you would want to keep your nose out of the underground markets of this city. I would have even let you interrupt this shipment, make a show of letting you think you had bested me. But when I saw the Warden…my, I knew I had to step up my game. How are you, pet? I must say you are looking well. I heard they drowned you off the coast of Seheron a few weeks ago.”

“Not quite,” Tabris replied.

“It seems so. There is a reward for you in Tevinter. That will no doubt make up for the profits you have lost me these past few months. Your friends here too must be dealt with, of course. It would make news that the Champion had been disposed of, however, so perhaps we can cut a deal. Bring me the slattern.”

Isabela fought as she was dragged forth, Hawke too weak to move to her defense. 

“I’m sorry, Warden,” Hawke said, turning to glance at Tabris.

Tabris nodded, “Do what you have to do.”

Isabela smirked, shaking her boot off her foot. Before they could react, she kicked it to Tabris, who picked the dagger out of it easily. She cut her binds as the others attempted to reign in Isabela. Hawke set a wave of energy through the ground, pushing them back enough for Isabela to fight them off. Tabris freed Fenris, who needed no blade to reach the slaver.

The others paused, Fenris’ glowing hand wrapped around Lerius’ throat. He turned to Tabris, who nodded solemnly. He crushed his windpipe and Lerius fell to the ground without a sound. 

They looked up as they heard a whistle and a dozen of the City Guard appeared from the shadows, taking down any that were left standing. Aveline ran to Hawke’s side and confirming she was safe, ordered her men to arrest the others.

Tabris walked to Lerius’ body, taking back the documents she had stolen from him and handing it over to the Guard Captain. She nodded gravely to the Warden and went back to her men. 

Isabela helped Hawke off the ground, the two speaking quietly with each other. Fenris moved to give them privacy, turning back to Tabris, who knelt down beside Lerius’ body. 

“Are you alright, Warden?” He asked.

Tabris nodded, wiping a tear from her eye.

“Yeah,” she said, standing, “I’m fine.”

He stood with her, watching the water of the harbour brush against the docks. He said finally, “I could use a drink. How about you?”

Tabris smiled, “I’d like that.”

*  
The first kiss had tasted like wine and honey. Fenris had moaned unabashedly into her mouth as her hand cupped his face. The second was merely seconds later, his hands coming into her hair, entangling his fingers and pulling her towards him. 

Tabris had broken this kiss in haste, her eyes locking into his as she asked, “Are you sure?”

Fenris did not hesitate to respond, “Yes.” 

He knew they must had climbed the stairs of the Hanged Man together, but he could not remember her hands leaving his body, her lips leaving his. He only became aware of his surroundings again when she had closed the door behind them and his heart began to race.

He kissed her again, slower, deeper, savouring how her mouth felt against his tongue and lips. Her hands ran down his body, taking off the slashed leggings, her fingers running over the newly pink scar across his thigh. He took the breastplate off himself, her fingers going to her own laces and ties. 

Fenris sighed as he saw her naked body before him, the firelight casting on her curves and the pink scars that covered her body. He traced one over her hip, her hand going to his chest and touching a lyrium tattoo. It did not burn nor ache at her touch and he relaxed into her hands.

When her hands reached lower, taking hold of his swelling cock, he felt himself be brought back to the moment. He blushed and rested his hand on her breast, feeling the nipple between his fingers. 

“I have little experience,” he warned, “I will be undone if you continue.”

“And you want to come inside of me?” She said, grasping harder.

“Yes,” Fenris admitted, kissing the side of her neck, “Please.”

She kissed him softly, her hands coming around his neck. He let his other hand trail down her body, parting her lips and letting his fingers enter her waiting body. She smiled, pulling him closer to her. While his hand explored her, eliciting a moan from her throat, his other coming to the back of her head, holding her hair in his hand.

He leaned in to her ear, kissing her lobe before whispering, “Tell me what you would have of me.”

“Get on the bed,” she commanded, “Lie on your back.”

Fenris did as she bid him, resting on his elbows as she came to rest above him, her legs grasping around him, her sex inches away from his. Fenris waited for her reassuring kiss, his heart pounding in his chest. 

“Do you want me?” She asked, her hand cupping his face, her lips so close to his.

“Yes,” he murmured, his eyes meeting hers intensely. He leaned up against her chest, holding her close to him as she slid down, taking him into her. He whimpered as she kissed him, her hands cupping his face as she moved. He moaned, kissing her gently, his hands in her hair, bringing her lips to his. 

She leaned forward, grunting slightly as her body squeezed around him. He thrust up against her, quickening the movement and she moved her hands to his back. He swept her into his arms until she was seated in his lap, pounding him into her as he held on desperately. He kissed her, her nails digging into his back, and he groaned into her mouth. 

She panted and he shook around her, holding her tightly to him as he came undone. He moaned, her eyes watching him intently as he pushed forth into her. He felt a pang of embarrassment go through him as he began to soften, but she kissed him tenderly. He pushed her down on the bed and instinctively kissed down her stomach, taking her swollen lips into his mouth. She cried out, wrapping her legs around his shoulders as he licked his seed from her, sucking that swollen nub until she came herself, moaning and shaking around him. As she came down, he kissed every part of her he could reach, his tongue sliding inside her. She moved into him, showing him where she needed him. Her second peak followed soon after, softer, her breathing slowing as she pulled him towards her. 

He knelt above her as they kissed again. Fenris laid down beside her and she put her arms around him, holding him close to her. He smiled tiredly, resting his head on her shoulder. She kissed his forehead.

“You’re a very fast learner,” she teased.

“You’re a good teacher,” he replied, his hand coming to rest on her stomach.

“Fenris,” she said softly after a time, turning on her side, “Honestly. Is this okay?”

Fenris took her hand, kissing her fingers gently, “Yes. It…it was more than I could have imagined.”

“You know I have to leave tomorrow,” she said softly.

Fenris swallowed the lump in his throat, “I know. You still obey your king.”

She bowed her head, “I realized I need to back home. I came to make it safer, to bring back those we lost…but I do not think I can gain back what we lost. I need to stop living in this past. Revenge…it is not bringing me happiness nor satisfaction. I don’t want it. I’m done.”

“What will you do?” He asked.

“What will you do?” Tabris asked quietly, “War is coming. We both know that. The tensions in this city…it will not last. Will you stay?”

“I go with Hawke,” Fenris said gently, “She can do good in this world, I know it. Sometimes, she just needs a strong sword behind her.”

“Are you in love with her?”

“No,” Fenris admitted, “I was infatuated at first…but I do love her. She is the family I lost. That matters more to me.”

Tabris nodded, “I understand.”

He ran his fingers down her bare shoulder and said softly, “I wish we had more time.”

“Me too,” she admitted.

They rested their foreheads against each other, Fenris bringing her into his arms.

“Will you stay tonight?” She asked softly.

“As long as you desire,” he replied.

“Then do not go,” she murmured. 

He kissed her then, deep and hungrily, his body rousing once again. They made love slowly, their bodies pressed closely as they whispered to each other in the dark.

*  
The sensation of the burning pain shocked him as he fell into the memory. His sister watching, his mother on her arm. Fenris screamed, flashes of elven children, flashes of the jungles of Seheron, all too much, too, too-

He caught his breath as his eyes opened. Tabris had curled her body around him, holding him tight to her. 

“Are you alright?” She asked softly.

He nodded, relaxing into her arms. 

“You’re safe,” she murmured, nuzzling into his neck, “Go to sleep.”

And as he closed his eyes again, Fenris realized the memories no longer scared him. As he fell asleep again, her arms around him, he felt protected. He felt loved. 

*

When Fenris woke, she was gone.

He dressed quietly, hearing the patrons of the tavern already in the halls. He sat on the bed, head in his hands, taking a deep breath before he would face them. There was no note, no letter. Perhaps she had kissed him goodbye when he was too tired to remember. But as it was, she was simply gone.

Fenris left the room, his fingers lingering on the doorframe. He was not a sentimental man, but he worried he would forget. Forget the smell of her skin, the taste of her lips. It was standing here he saw Hawke, the mage looking pleased with herself as she walked out of Isabela’s room.

“Fenris,” she greeted, “How are you this fine morning?”

When he hesitated to reply, his closest friend looked him up and down and asked, “What’s wrong?”

And in a rare moment of vulnerability, Fenris told her. 

Hawke embraced Fenris suddenly, throwing him off guard. Hawke held him closely, a quiet catch in her voice when she said softly, “You should go after her.”

Fenris protested, but Hawke interrupted, “I have known you six years. You are my best friend. My rock. And I know I rely on you for far too much. And I know you think I’m your responsibility, that you need to take care of me. But…you need to take care of yourself too. You could be happy. Really happy. I love you. I love you enough to tell you not to let me hold you back. Go after her, Fenris. Go be happy and get married and have little broody elven babies.”

“She might not want me to follow,” Fenris said quietly.

“It doesn’t hurt to ask,” Hawke replied, “And if she says no, you come back here and we drink ourselves silly. But…just in case. I’ll miss you.”

Fenris blinked back an unexpected tear, holding her in his arms.

“We’ll see each other again, Hawke,” Fenris promised as he let go. 

“I know we will,” Hawke smiled, “Go get her.”

“You’ll say goodbye to everyone for me?” Fenris said, running his hand through his hair.

“For the Maker’s sake,” Hawke grumbled, “Go already. Go on.”

Fenris kissed her cheek and ran.

*  
Fenris made it to the docks just as the sun was rising over the water. He recognized the Ferelden call sign on the mast and saw the crowd of people outside, making last minute pleas to their former king. Fenris pushed his way past them, looking for the Warden. 

“Fenris?” 

He turned, seeing Tabris standing on the steps towards Lowtown, dressed in her Grey Warden regalia. They walked towards each other, meeting at the top of the stairs. 

Fenris reached for her hand, taking it into his, and asked, “Room for one more?”

Tabris smiled, “Ferelden is very cold and smells like wet dog. Are you sure?”

Fenris said softly, “Yes.” 

He took her face in his hands and kissed her deeply, her body falling into his. When they parted, he saw the blush on her cheeks as they looked over at the crew, a few hooting at them.

If they had been alone, he would have told her then he was falling in love with her. But as he took her hand in his as they went aboard, her smile as he carried her over the threshold of their cabin, he did not worry about words any longer. What he felt he could not put into words, but if he had to try, he would say he finally felt free.

**Author's Note:**

> I like to think that Alistair generally is not a dick, but was having a very bad day. We are all dicks on our bad days, are we not?


End file.
